


Bad People

by kethni



Series: Bad Things [1]
Category: Veep
Genre: F/M, Hate Sex, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:50:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4006462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karma isn't a concept that Selina accepts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad People

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying a few different things. This didn't quite work out as I expected but hopefully not too terrible.

 

 

Selina poured herself a glass of Scotch and sank back onto her couch. Jesus. The convention. This was supposed to be her moment. Being the president at the party convention should’ve been like Elvis walking out on stage. She should’ve spent the day swimming through a sea of adoration. She _deserved_ it. She’d worked for it. Hell she’d fought for it. Now every success was outweighed by a fucking disaster.

Most of the peons had scrambled away already with some candy ass excuse about it being late. Sweet Jesus, sometimes she felt more like babysitter than the goddamn president. Didn’t anyone have any damn perseverance?

She slumped back into her chair and glanced at the one remaining member of staff still working.

‘Nowhere to be, Kent?’

He didn’t look up from his papers. ‘Ma’am, you asked me to go through Amy’s proposed schedule. However if you have reconsidered the issue then I will take my leave.’

‘Gotta a red hot… a tepid date? You planning on having some acceptable food in a tolerable restaurant followed by some adequate sex with one of your fellow pod people?’

That earned her one of his pinched looks. ‘Most droll, Ma’am.’

Selina threw back her head. ‘Another fucking terrible day in another fucking terrible week in another fucking terrible month.’

Kent tapped his pen. ‘A single cluster of events is not necessarily statistically meaningful however the theory of moral causation would suggest a simple cause and effect correlation is in operation.’

Selina squinted at him. ‘Did you just say all this was fucking _karma_?’

‘Karma is a religious concept and therefore dependent on belief rather than evidence. A concatenation of events, on the other hand, is simple logic.’

Selina shook her head. ‘So, your theory is that things are going to shit because I’ve done shitty things.’

Kent shrugged. ‘Yes.’

She threw a cushion at his head. He caught it with one hand and then looked back down at his papers.

‘I’m being fucking serious here,’ she said.

‘As am I.’

She reached under her dress to roll down her thigh highs. ‘You’re a fucking terrible yes man.’

He shrugged without looking up from his paperwork. ‘You asked me a question. I said yes.’

She looked at him sourly as she squirmed out of her nylons. He glanced up, registered her bare legs, and looked back down at his charts.

‘You still pissed about… Chloe?’ she asked.

‘Leigh,’ he said.

‘Right,’ Selina said. ‘Still pissed.’

He gave a very small sigh. ‘Disappointed merely. We have so few competent staffers and we disposed of one of the best in a failed and transparent attempt to avert criticism.’

Selina groaned as she lay down on the couch. ‘You keep going on about it and I’m going to wonder if you’re fucking her.’

She heard it clang in the sudden silence. If he had a sense of humour, a _huge_ if, he definitely didn’t laugh at sex jokes. Instead, he frowned at her with something like disgust.

‘Don’t give me that look,’ Selina said. She idly thumped a cushion with her fist. ‘D.C. is full of assholes screwing barely legal girls. At least you’re not married.’

His eyes narrowed marginally. ‘I don’t dally with children.’

‘Good! Because, you know, you’ve been working a lot with Catherine. I swear to god if you ever laid a finger on her I would chop off your fucking arm.’ Selina scythed her hand through the air. ‘Then your dick.’

His gaze slid to the glass of Scotch she was drinking. ‘I should go.’  

‘Yeah, I think you should,’ she growled. ‘Theory of moral fucking causation.’ 

‘We’re in politics.’ He was gathering up his papers and standing up. ‘The only virtue is pragmatism.’

Selina snorted. ‘Is that what you call it? You tell me I’m a terrible person and then you go running. Very pragmatic. Bravo.’

He didn’t look at her although he did sigh. ‘Now you are conflating judgements about behaviour with moral worth.’

Selina sat up slightly. ‘Do you even have a dick, Kent? Did Sue take it with her when she dumped you? Are you like a Ken doll down there?’

The room seemed to grow colder, just a couple of degrees. He stood up straighter. ‘Perhaps you’ve had enough to drink.’

His tone could’ve frozen lava.

‘I haven’t even had a whole glass. What, you worried I’m gonna drunk dial England and beg them to take us back?’

‘It would be the United Kingdom, in fact.’ Kent turned and began to walk towards the door.

‘God, get a sense of fucking humour!’

That was the line. She could feel it under her feet. She needed to take a step back before one of them said something they’d regret.

Instead, she hurled the cushion at his back. It hit him right between the shoulders, knocking the papers out of his arms. ‘Better scoop up your little polls and policies, Kent doll.’

He swivelled on his heel and looked at her. Kept looking at her far past the moment she felt comfortable.

Selina took a gulp of her Scotch. ‘Don’t just stand there.’

‘What precisely would you like me to say?’ He picked up the cushion and held it by the corner.

Selina sat up. It was a freaking cushion, just a cushion, but he was holding it as if he might pitch it at her at any second. ‘You know,’ she said. ‘I have just about had it with your two-faced bullshit. You will look me in the face and tell me anything you think I want to hear and to hell with whether it’s true or not.’

Kent snorted. ‘The truth? You’re only interested in the truth when it flatters you.’ He took a step forward. ‘You refuse to take any responsibility for your actions.’

‘That’s enough,’ she growled, getting to her feet.

‘Or what, _Selina_ , will you throw something else at me?’

She stamped over, expecting every minute that he’d back down. ‘I have had a shitty day and –’

‘Your narcissistic self-absorption is really quite inspiring, Madam President.’

‘Don’t you fucking interrupt me!’ Her finger jabbed forward, meaning to stab into his chest.

He caught her hand and easily engulfed it with his. ‘Do not prod me, Ma’am.’

‘Or what? What’re you gonna do, Kent?’ She tried to yank her hand free but he held it fast. ‘Am I supposed to be impressed because you’re stronger than I am?’

He took a step forward. She took a step back.

‘I don’t expect you to be impressed,’ he said. That same cold-with-a-side-order-of-derision that she used to get from him. ‘I’ve seen what impresses you.’

She went up on her tiptoes to sneer into his face. ‘Well it sure as fuck isn’t you.’

‘The feeling is mutual.’

His free hand caught and cupped under her other elbow, keeping her up on her toes. Selina felt her calves tremble but she’d be damned before she’d admit it.

‘Let me the fuck go.’

‘Or what?’ he walked forward, pushing her towards the sofa.

‘You don’t scare me,’ she hissed.

‘Ma’am, the only thing that scares you is your own incompetence.’

Selina jerked her elbow free from his grip and sank down to her feet. ‘My incompetence? You’ve got a damn nerve.’

‘The data is clear.’ Kent continued forward.

Selina held her ground for a handful of long moments. His skin should’ve been cold and slick, like a snake. Instead, the hand holding her was almost unbelievably warm and she felt his heat radiating through his shirt.

He had his head tilted slightly as he watched her. Christ, he looked like a fucking hawk watching a rabbit, right before it swooped in for the kill.

‘Are you done?’ she demanded.

‘Am I doing something?’

Selina snorted and tugged at her hand. Kent’s eyebrow quirked slightly as he released it.

‘Yeah, you’re completely failing to follow through.’ She glowered at him. ‘Just like always, Kent. You lay down your little traps and snares but when it comes to go in for the kill, you just haven’t got the balls.’

‘I’m going to leave –’

‘The fuck you are.’ She caught him by the loop of his belt.

 _‘What_?’

‘Uh-uh, no way buster. You don’t get to play at Stanley Kowalski and then just walk off.’ Selina unbuckled his belt and dragged it free.

‘Stop that.’ Kent grabbed at her hands but she was too quick for him.

‘Make me.’

Selina snatched for his tie. He slapped her hands away but the movement overbalanced her. She fell back, towards the sofa, grabbing at his shirt. As she sprawled back, pulling him with her, she heard his shirt rip.

‘Jesus!’ She wrapped a handful of his tie around her fist. ‘Either fuck me or get the fuck off me.’

His expression was as dark and ugly as she had seen. ‘Let go.’

‘Don’t think so.’ She glared, waiting for him to look away. He didn’t. She felt him grip her hand and slowly peel her fingers from his tie. ‘Get off me.’

‘Too late,’ he growled. ‘Already made the other choice.’

He tugged off his tie and threw it aside, then reached behind her to wrench down her dress zipper. She felt it jam and heard the material tearing apart as he forced it down.

‘This dress cost more than your first apartment,’ she hissed.

‘Ma’am, my dinner cost more than my first apartment.’ He hauled the dress up over her head, sending her earrings pinging off, and pulling her platinum chain sharply against her throat.

‘You asshole.’ She untangled herself, pitched the dress aside, and yanked his shirt apart. ‘You think I’m going to lie here while you strip me naked?’

Kent was kicking off his shoes. ‘I think it would be momentous if you’d shut up, let alone lie still.’

‘You better be up to it.’ Selina struggled with her bra clasp. ‘If you are pushing rope I swear to God…’

He dragged her hand down to his crotch. ‘Happy?’

‘Fucking ecstatic. You better have protection.’ She pulled back her hand, took off her bra, and dropped it onto the floor.

‘Of course.’

‘Tits,’ she said. ‘Expensive and definitely _not_ decorative.’

Kent pushed down his pants and kicked them off. ‘Ma’am, are you ordering me to provide foreplay?’

‘Failure to comply will be consider high-fucking-treason.’ She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him close. ‘Try to stick your tongue in my mouth and I’ll bite it out.’

His hands slid from her knees and along her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his back, her right hand still tangled in his hair. ‘I wouldn’t kiss you if were drowning.’

‘Feeling’s mutual,’ she grunted as he pushed his face against her the hollow of her shoulder. His beard was a gentle scratch against her skin as he sucked and nipped at her neck.

Selina grunted, her grip tightening in his hair. Her other hand reached between them, tracing her fingertips along him. Christ. Who knew he’d been hiding that?

‘Where’s the rubber?’ she asked.

Kent growled, and reached over the side of the sofa. ‘I said I had one.’

Selina glanced down and watched him dig the small packet out of his wallet with one hand. He brought the wrapper up to his mouth and tore it open with his teeth.

‘How long’ve you been waiting to make that move?’ she asked.

‘With you? Never.’

She waited for him to finish then hauled is hand up to her chest. ‘Tits, remember.’

‘The micromanaging is by no means emasculating,’ he mumbled against her neck.

Selina hissed as his thumbs circled her nipples. ‘Like I give a damn about your fragile ego.’

‘Evidently.’

Her nails dug into his shoulder as she pushed up against him. ‘Are you going to fuck me or just –’

Kent pressed his mouth to her ear. ‘For once, just shut up.’

***

Selina left Kent looking for his boxers under the sofa. She dragged herself into the bedroom and hauled on her silk robe. She needed a shower in the worst way but she’d be damned if she’d do it with him anywhere in the vicinity.

 She could hear him gathering up his clothes and… Jesus, tidying up the room.

‘Get the fuck out!’ she bellowed.

There was a long silence and then he rapped on the bedroom door. She wrenched it open. He was dressed, more or less, although his hair on one side was practically on end.

‘What part of “get the fuck out” is so difficult to understand?’

‘Amy’s resignation has hit the press,’ he said. ‘Mike has responded by calling her insane.’

‘Insane,’ she repeated. ‘Well, that’s fucking great. That won’t rebound on us at all. What was that thing you called it, karma all dressed up in silk panties?’ she asked.

‘The theory of moral causation,’ Kent said.

‘Right. Apparently that thing is kicking me in my lady balls some more.’ Selina closed her eyes. ‘You’re not still seeing Sue are you?’

She heard him snort. ‘No.’

‘Thank Christ for that,’ she said. ‘I don’t need her pissed at me too.  Get me a coffee would you?’

‘Before or after I get out?’

She opened one eye and glared at him. ‘Before. Jackass.’ She shook her head as she headed to the bathroom. Being a bad person should be a hell of a lot more fun than this.

~


End file.
